The House of Happiness by Barbara Cartland Page B

at all.”
    â€œMama, I don’t!”  Mrs. Dovedale threw up her hands.
    â€œYou are an ungrateful and surly creature! Have you not an ounce of gratitude in your bones?”
    â€œOf gratitude I have more than an ounce. But gratitude is not – interest. I am not nor ever shall be tempted to fall in love with the Marquis and I wish you would not persist in your notions to the contrary.”
    â€œYou might be Mistress of Buckbury!” wailed Mrs. Dovedale. “I am sure of it.”
    â€œI would rather be Mistress of my own heart.”
    â€œYou are beyond redemption!” cried Mrs. Dovedale. “Go away.  Leave my sight immediately before I develop the fits”
    Eugenia rose obligingly and walked to the door.
    â€œThank God I shall have my Aunt Cloris for company soon,” Mrs. Dovedale muttered behind her. 
    A week later a letter came from Great-Aunt Cloris advising that she had accepted the kind invitation from the Marquis to visit Buckbury Abbey.  A week after that, the Marquis’s carriage bore the old lady up the driveway.
    Great-Aunt Cloris waved royally from the carriage as it drew to a halt. Mrs. Dovedale did not wait for the footman to open the door, but hurried down to open it herself. Great-Aunt Cloris descended in great style.
    After her came Bridget.
    Eugenia’s eyes widened at the sight.
    Bridget, wearing one of Great-Aunt Cloris’s old fur capes, looked about her with such a haughty eye it was as if she now considered herself elevated to the aristocracy rather than to the simple position of lady’s maid.
    â€œI don’t care to bed down in the kitchen or in the attic no more,” she proclaimed.
    The footmen glanced at each other but Great-Aunt Cloris seemed amused rather than outraged at Bridget.
    â€œWould you have guessed how very greatly a promotion would enlarge her sense of self?” she whispered to Mrs. Dovedale and Eugenia.
    Eugenia was intrigued by Bridget’s change of character.  She stood at the door while Bridget inspected the room she had been assigned, which was adjacent to that of Great-Aunt Cloris. The maid’s room was small but compact, with a chest of drawers and a latticed window overlooking a courtyard. Bridget bounced up and down on the bed and declared herself satisfied with the mattress.
    â€œIt’s horsehair.  That’ll do me. And a feather pillow.”
    She threw off her cape and, leaning back on her elbows, kicked off her shoes. Eugenia was astonished to see that Bridget’s feet were encased in fine silk stockings.
    Eugenia decided that either Bridget had a secret beau or Great-Aunt Cloris was shedding an unprecedented amount of the items in her overstuffed wardrobe and tallboys. It was Bridget who decided to enlighten her.
    â€œThe stockings are yours, miss. I took them.”
    â€œY-you took them?”
    â€œWell, you owed me.  Remember when I promised I wouldn’t let on to your mother or great-aunt that you’d been out alone in Kensington Gardens and you agreed you’d owe me a – sweetener – for my silence?”
    Eugenia nodded slowly.  “That seems a very long time ago.”
    â€œNot so long that I’d forgotten.  There was someone – who rather wanted to see me in silk stockings, so I – helped myself.”
    Eugenia shook her head in wonder at the maid’s temerity.  Bridget, feeling the subject was dealt with, kicked her heels together and gave a sigh.
    â€œIt’s quiet here, isn’t it miss?” she remarked.  “You like it, do you?
    â€œAt Buckbury? Yes, I – I suppose I do.  Though I miss London and – some of the people there.”
    â€œI’m going to miss London too. I wouldn’t have come only – “
    â€œOnly what, Bridget?”
    Bridget eyes narrowed. “Only I was, as you might say, ordered to.”
    â€œOh, by Great-Aunt Cloris?”
    â€œGregor